Monthly Archives: May 2013

A strange search string to use to reach my site but this week, someone did actually land on these hallowed pages with the above search.

It was also the week that my sister, after some 8 years of me blogging, finally subscribed to my site.

I am now left wondering if there is a connection between the two?

Enough of that – let me blog…….

Sardinia is cold wet and windy. We got a gold old fashioned kicking when we left Palma for Olbia, but then what should you expect when you leave port and the forecast is a Mistral? Every other boat crew were shaking their heads when we told them we were in fact going to sea. The boat has been reacting very negatively to me leaving. On the day we left port, no less than 4 failures, and pretty much one every day since we have been here. it is making it much easier for me to walk away guilt free.

So guilt free in fact that I am now planning to take a couple of months off. Back to Mallorca for a couple of days when I leave the boat on the 12th, then, and I can hardly believe I am saying this – back to Portugal for a week of surf and head straightening before hot footing it all the way to Brussels for a week there, running and riding through the forest on the cards!

July will see me in England for a few weeks before a trip to Russia, yes Russia at the end of July. August is all mine so far, and I am toying with the idea of a coastal drive in the UK with my surf boards to see what’s about.

I also hope I can entangle Mr. Brown in another trip to Cannock Chase.

That will do for now – because, to be quite honest with you – I need a poo !

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Wind is blowing hard at the moment and bringing some sloppy surf onto the island. It certainly isn’t Portugal but if you are an islander or even someone who has been stuck here for a few months with work and has island fever, it may come as a welcome break for you.

I had some fun at the bank today. My spanish bank card expired 15 months ago but as I haven’t been here for any length of time I never bothered renewing it until today, and that was only prompted last night on the way to squash by Tall Paul who handed me a bank statement. So, the transcript of what happened in the bank (tranlsated into English for the ease of my multi cultural readers)

me – Morning, I need a new bank card please

handing over the old card, the spanish lady looks at it, turns her face sour like a bulldog licking piss off a thistle then says

bank girl – You have ID?

I gave her my driving license as I never thought to take anything else to the bank to get a new card

bank girl – This is a driving licence

me thinking to myself – no shit Sherlock !

bank girl – I need a passport

me, facial expression – oh fucking hell, here we go again, anything but help the client – spanish stylie – 15 minutes back to the boat to get it, 15 minutes back to the bank, another 15 minutes to find a parking space

bank girl after clearly reading my expression – OK, I can do it with this

She then read the address they held on the system for me to confirm where to send the card. it wasn’t my address and it was not an address I had ever had in Mallorca. I told her that was wrong and then gave her the statement that had been sent to me just days before. She naturally looked confused, I now feared the worst and was waiting for the one thing that sends a spear of pain and fear down your spine – The Spanish Shrug.

The Spanish Shrug is that moment in time where, without the use of words, the locals can tell you that exactly not one single fuck is given for your plight – worse still, the shrug also implies that not one single fuck will be given at some point in the near or mid distant future. You are, as we so politely say in blighty – up shit creek without a paddle!

To my complete and utter amazement, she calmly started updating the address on her computer with the address on the statement that her bank had produced in the last 7 days. Then she cut my old card in half and told me a new card will be with me in 7 to 10 days

Now, lets be clear, thats 7 to 10 working days – clearer still, 7 – 10 Spanish working days so lets call it 3 weeks before the new card might land on Tall Paul’s doorstep but to really add insult to injury, they will also charge me 25€ for the privellage of sending me a new card.

Don’t even get me started about vodafone Spain changing my phone contract a year ago and taking treble the normal monthly fee without even telling me!

If you have ever wondered why the eurozone is having problems – come out to any of the latin countries and see for yourself exactly why there are problems.

Always good to start the week off with something dashing – I quit my job this morning. Been niggling away at me now for a few months and finally I decided today was the day, after working a months notice, I will have completed a whole year on board. For some reason, other potential employers like to see a year as a minimum.

Of course, the skipper was dismayed and has this afternoon been trying to tempt me to stay but you know when the little seed is planted and it will only ever grow – that really makes me think the best option is to move on.

Had a busy weekend exploring the delights of Palma. First stop was the most important for the weekend – Lórien in Palma, an absolute must for any serious beer drinkers. When I say serious beer drinkers, I don’t mean people that can swill down 10 pints of Budpiss or wife beater – I mean the serious drinker that only drinks two beers on their visit, yet savours the mouthful of flavours that they ingest – best of all, it is twice the strength of that pish you get everywhere else so you only need a couple and you are done for.

Hot on the tail of Lòrien was Magaluf or Shagaluf as some of you might know it. Just on the outskirts of this huge free sperm exchange is a place called Pirates. I last went there around 5 years ago and loved it, this time it was almost just as good. I say almost because for my part there was too much girl dancing when the acrobatics could have been more. Still though, – if you find yourself in Shagaluf and you are not full of strangers sperm, Pirates is a must see.

Not quite last on my score list was a Saturday evening meal in a little place called Na Burguesa, a shack that clings to the hillside overlooking Génova and the whole of Palma from one side of the bay to the other, and out back to the mountains. A nice little number too – got there in daylight and stayed until after dark. After dinner, we headed into Palma to Hostel Cuba, a new place for me, somewhere I haven’t been since it opened but ……..I haven’t really missed anything. Full of people trying to look too good rather than having a good time – reminded me of a trip once to Pacha where the locals were easy to spot, they danced rooted to the spot in fear of spoiling their hair or creasing their clothes. Of course it wasn’t long before we had seen enough and headed for an old favourite ‘ Café Lisboa’. Still liking this place although I have to admit it is missing something since the smoking ban came into force – it was a bit like a seedy Jazz club before but with a different playlist, mostly rocky stuff with thick smoke so if you were looking for someone at the other end of the bar, you had to walk down there to see them, no standing on your tip toes and making eye contact.

Saving the best to last was of course ‘The Diner’ for sunday brunch – a superb score to finish off the weekend.

Still full of cold and feeling the effects of all of the food i have eaten this weekend I need to focus. We leave Palma on Monday and head for Sardinia where we have two races to compete in – and I use the word ‘compete’ very very loosely indeed.